


Mr. Lawman

by quiescentcas



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Crack, Gen, M/M, Poetry, Song fic, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9219833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiescentcas/pseuds/quiescentcas
Summary: BungbungbungBungbungbungbungBungbungMr. Sandman(This is exactly what you think it is.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember if this was from a tumblr post or just some shit I made up, but I typed into a google doc:
> 
> Mr. Sandman, bring me some sand.  
> I want a little bit of sand in my hand.
> 
> The sand reminds me of being at the beach.  
> The water's warm and the tequila's in reach.
> 
> Then as I kept going the poem it turned into being about Hannibal, and I deleted those lines. Anyways, the first verse has the rhythm of the typical "Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream..." and then all of the rest of the verses have the rhythm of "Give him two lips like roses and clover..." (although the last line of each verse sounds more like the end of the Mr. Sandman verse, and don't really turn 'up' like how they sing 'lonesome nights'). Also, this poem has no official song ending.
> 
> Does any of that make sense? It doesn't matter, it's all crack anyway.

Mr. Lawman,

It’s nice in Cuba.

I’m teachin’ my wendigo

How to hula.

 

Hannibal’s at the bar;

He’s flirtin’ with this man.

We’ll have a gourmet dinner

Of human hands.

 

Encephalitis 

Used to be my worst fear,

At least I know I’ve 

Eat’n Bedelia’s ear.

 

I saw her get gored 

By the raven stag.

We took her on the plane 

In a doggy bag.

 

So now we’re getting tan

In the gorgeous sun,

And making murder tableaus

From local nuns.

 

No one can stop us

So we patronize God,

And Hanni said that we might

Adopt a dog.

 

I’m never leaving;

They can’t drag me back home.

My ass is buzzing...

It must be my phone.

 

Everyone’s calling;

Someone murdered my wife.

They think it’s me;

I’ll be imprisoned for life.

 

There’s metal bars a-flashin',

Through my beach dreams.

These padded walls

Are making me wanna scream.

 

Where are my friends?

Oh where did they all get to?

Oh yeah, that’s right:

We killed and cooked them in food.

**Author's Note:**

> if you think of your own verses please tell me!!!


End file.
